


Forwards

by alianovna_grant



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Burner Phone - Freeform, But fluff in the end, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mostly Natasha feels - Freeform, Mutual Pining, Natasha Needs a Hug, Natasha Romanoff POV - Freeform, On the Run, Post Avengers: Age of Ultron (flashback), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Steve Needs a Hug, capwidow - Freeform, romanogers - Freeform, stevenat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 15:31:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6962629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alianovna_grant/pseuds/alianovna_grant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Anything that’ll happen from here on out, we’ll face them together,” he says. </p><p>***</p><p>Natasha contemplates on what had happened after the fallout that transpired and what needs to be done. She gets a surprise in the form a burner phone left in a place she shouldn't have gone back to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forwards

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So I was inspired by the notion that there wasn't just one burner phone at the end of Civil War. It also deals with my feelings with the lack of Natasha at the end of the movie. I was working on an AU before inspiration struck with this one and it all just came out and again, I didn't know where I was going with it initially. ( Like every single time I just start and things just happen IDEK.)
> 
> Semi beta'd by friend Meg (who is an amazing writer and my hope is that she gets too far gone in this fandom that she starts writing as well) but I think she's busy and I didn't wait for her to edit it for the second time because I just wanted to get this out there (Sorry, bess! lol) I'm pretty sure there will be errors in punctuation and the like so please bear with me. I am trying to gain my footing in this writing thing again lol 
> 
> Anyways, here it is and I hope you all enjoy, comments and suggestions would be highly appreciated! :D

She’s finally settled on Asia.

She’d been debating with herself for the last hour which place she should go. She’d considered Europe, maybe going back to Russia, settle some loose ends over there but she knew after everything that happened in Berlin that wouldn’t be _wise_. She’d considered the Caribbean, maybe go for somewhere tropical, finally visit a beach and get a tan. But she settles on Asia, go as far off the grid as she can, follow-up on a few contacts, get herself somewhere _safe_ , somewhere she can plan her next move. But she couldn’t leave before going somewhere _first_ , this _need_ to go to there has been bugging her since yesterday. She had to go. It was illogical, but she just _had_ to.

She reaches the apartment without any difficulty despite her status as a fugitive. She had to be careful going from place to place not to alert the government, but it wasn’t a problem, she was the best at what she did. They wouldn’t know how to look for her even if they _tried_.

The tiny apartment has served her well so many times before when she needed to lay low or needed somewhere closer to crash. Nobody knew about this place except for Clint, but only vaguely as she mentioned a safe house in passing, and of course, _Steve_. Steve _knew_ about this place. 

The last time she saw him, she was incapacitating a king so he and Barnes could escape. She could still feel the energy from her widow’s bite vibrating in her arm as she shot King T’Challa multiple times. She never thought it would’ve led to that, to them fighting one another, _hurting each other_. She can still remember Steve’s face clearly when he’d found her near the quinjet. She saw _fear_ in his eyes, fear that she would actually _hurt_ him.

That look broke her. That he would actually think she was capable of inflicting pain on him, the thought was _unfathomable_. So, she let him go because he trusted her with his life, and she trusted him with hers.

She trusted Steve.

After that, she didn’t know what had happened to him. She hoped, no she _prayed_ , something she never did, that he was alright. That he was somewhere safe and away from harm. She’d heard that the others were back in the compound. Vision, Rhodey, and Tony.  The only ones in their team who weren’t being persecuted. She didn’t try to dwell on that too much, they’d made their choices. She was part of that choice too, but it all seems so insignificant _now_.

She wasn’t sure if Tony had her tailed the last time they talked, when he clearly told her to watch her back and her telling him to watch his. She would like to believe that Tony wouldn’t, she still held out some hope that he wouldn’t go that far. She was second-guessing herself, and her plan. _Would it be safe?_ No, Tony wouldn’t, but Ross, he definitely _would_.

She had to be careful, she knew going there would be a risk. She had no idea how compromised the situation was. Ever since the collapse of SHIELD she’d been wary of trusting anybody outside the team. The Accords didn’t really sit well with her, the part of her that was wary of authority prickled at the thought of being under someone’s thumb, but she couldn’t invalidate the need for it as well. There was sense in foresight, in limiting the damage. It made _sense_. But what ultimately made her decision for her was the need to keep the team together. She wanted to keep the last remnants, the last semblance, of order and familiarity in their lives intact but now she realized, as everything lay in shambles, it might not have been the best move.

_All of it didn’t matter anymore._

So despite her apprehension to return to familiar grounds, she just had to, she needed to go back to that tiny apartment. Natasha believed in gut feelings. She’s been saved so many times by trusting it, letting her instincts take over, and now it was telling her that _something_ was waiting for her there and she couldn’t shake off the feeling that it would be _important_.

The one-bedroom apartment is bare, she’s stocked it with only the bare necessities. Food, clothing, money. Some weapons, and identification. Nothing she couldn’t get her hands on elsewhere. She had wide connections and they were _everywhere_. SHIELD wasn’t even aware of some of these contacts, let alone the government. They were remnants of what was left of the Black Widow before joining SHIELD. Some connections inseverable, try as she might, and she was thankful for the first time since going straight that they still existed. She _still_ had some secrets, they were probably the only things that would ensure her survival from here on out.

The apartment complex just outside of Queens was nondescript, nothing that would set it apart from the rest of the buildings that was plentiful in that area. For the most part, hers was a little dingier, a little more unkempt than the nicer ones around it. She’d kept tabs on the landlord and the tenants, especially her neighbors. You can never be _too safe_ or _too sure_ of the people around you. She’d done the most thorough background checks imaginable. This obsessive need has kept her alive way too many times, it made the difference between getting killed or walking away to tell stories about it. It reminded her of what Sam had said over the comm link in Lagos only a mere week ago. About her being paranoid, it all seemed so far away now.

Her heart clenches at the thought of her team, her _friends_ , locked up like animals in some facility she had no idea where. She had no idea of what the extent of all this was. She wished she could’ve snooped around the compound before storming away, before going rogue. Maybe she could’ve found more about Ross, what his plan was and what he wanted from them, what he had laid in store for all of them. Maybe she could’ve gathered more information, _any_ information, so she wouldn’t feel as in the dark as she was right now but it wasn’t possible.  She was strapped for time, she was a wanted woman. She wouldn’t be of use to the others if she was locked up inside with them. It didn’t matter.

_She’d find a way._

The one thing she’d learned through all of this was the length of what people would do for _friends_.  Because she knew she had that, with this bunch of misfits and heroes who accepted her and treated her as an equal, treated her as _family_. She didn’t even know if they’d still have her, and it hurt her to think that it had reached that point, if they even considered her as that after _everything_ , but she’d try. She’d goddamn try until it was the last thing she ever did.

That was what Steve had taught her, doing the right thing even if the odds were against you. Even if the possibility of failure and defeat was palpable. There was no other choice, you just had to _try_. There was no other option. So she promised herself, there was no other way, she had to _stay strong_. She had to save her friends even if she had to risk her own life to do it.

God, she couldn’t believe how much Steve had rubbed off on her since that day on the hellicarrier. She’d questioned it before, _how could a person be so good? So forthright and honest?_ She didn’t know anybody like him, didn’t know if a person like that existed. It fought against everything she knew about human nature, everything she’d been taught and seen first-hand. But that person did exist, it was Steve. And as she got to know him each day, she believed more and more that he was the real deal. _He was the best of all of us._

She couldn’t help but admire him just a little more each day too, not because he demanded it, but because it was true, even the most cynical person wouldn’t be able to deny how much of a good person he was, how he made everyone around him _better_. She was, as much as she _hated_ to admit it, a better person because of _him_. She feels the familiar pang in her chest at those thoughts. The familiar ache that has been tugging at her for a while now. A longing she couldn’t, no _wouldn’t_ place. Something that has been slowly creeping up on her, a longing she vehemently tried to deny, but it was there.

Something _insistent_ and growing more and more.

She’d reached her floor, scanned the place more thoroughly than usual until she decided everything was safe and accounted for. She gently pulls the spare key from where she’s left it in between the bricks and unconsciously holds her breath until she hears the familiar click of the door unlocking.

The apartment was the same as she had left it. Same white walls, same bland furniture that was here even before she’d purchase it. Even the smell of must that seemed to never go away still persisted. She made a sweep of the place, mentally cataloging every detail she could remember. From the scuff mark on the wall nearest to her, to the small crack on the crown molding above the window. She heaves a sigh of relief and takes a moment to let her guard down, she didn’t know when was the next time she could.

She finds herself inside the lone bedroom. It was the same as the last time she’d seen it. Pristine white sheets over a queen sized mattress, a couple of pillows- no bed frame. She sits down, feeling herself sink on the bed. She presses her palms over her eyes, letting the warmth from her hands soothe the twinge that was beginning to pulse under her skull. _How did everything turn to shit in such a short amount of time?_

She probably shouldn’t linger, she probably should just get everything she needed from the apartment and bolt, get to the next safest place and plan _, strategize_ , but she couldn’t help herself. She finally let herself lay down the sprawling bed and let the tension of the last few days ease from her body even for just a little bit. Set let herself grieve over everything she’d lost, but her memories chose to steer her to the last time she’d lain on this bed and who she was with.

*

_The rain was vicious, coming down hard and unforgiving, pummeling their skin and drenching them, as if the cold was seeping through their marrow. It had been a tough night, she and Steve were tracking down a local mob boss who apparently had ties to Hydra. Though the group hadn’t been heard from since the events in Sokovia, the past couple of years has made them all too wary of how resilient HYDRA was._

_Cut off one head…_

_They couldn’t let this one go no matter how small or insignificant it was in the grand scheme of things. Especially Steve._

_It felt like her whole being was saturated with rain. The adrenaline from the fight was wearing off and the sharp pain from the kick to her right rib was making itself known. She winced as she crouched low to get to the keys wedged between the exposed bricks._

_“Nat, don’t. I’ll do it,” Steve said, concern lacing his voice as he helps Natasha up, gentle with his movements trying not to jostle her too much._

_“Thanks,” she replies, leaning on the door to ease some of the pressure on her side. “Didn’t think our night would end up like this.”_

_She sees the key in Steve’s hand, his face filled with regret and worry as he makes his way to open the door._

_“I’m sorry about that, Nat. Didn’t think me being there would compromise the mission. I just wanted to do something. I just wanted-”_

_“Steve, stop,” she interjects, shifting her foot to her left side to ease the discomfort growing on her right. “We had no idea there would be fifty armed men in that seedy bar. Come to think of it, I’m kind of grateful you insisted to come to this mission. I wouldn’t have come out of there with just a bruised rib if you weren’t so stubborn.” she chuckles, trying to go for some levity._

_His face softens a little, but she could still see the disquiet etched on his features. His eyes mirroring the storm that was worsening outside._

_They made their way inside the tiny apartment, with him insisting that he help her inside despite her protests. He had his arm supporting most of her weight, and she let him, because she knew that acts like this help Steve to deal with his guilt, even though he had no fault in what happened. It was hard to convince him otherwise._

_“Nice place.” He quips, easing her on one of the kitchen chairs, his eyes scanning the almost barren space._

_“Yeah? Well, it’s been plenty useful. Got this safe house a few months after joining SHIELD. Old habits die hard, I guess,” stripping off the rain soaked jacket that had clung to her like a second skin._

_He takes his turn and strips off his own jacket, hanging the wet piece of clothing at the back of one of the chairs. “So this place is off the books?”_

_“Pretty much. Even when I was working for the Red Room I tried to keep a place no one knew about. Something for myself. Just to be safe.” She closes her eyes for a second, letting those errant memories flitter away._

_When she turns her attention back to him she notices how obscene he looked, shirt sticking to his skin emphasizing the hard contours underneath. It didn’t help that he was rummaging around the drawers and cupboards, his muscles flexing and contorting at every turn. She wasn’t above appreciating the male form, but Steve’s, was beyond any doubt, the most beautiful she’s ever seen. His body moved with fluidity and power. There was a certain grace in his movements, the dancer in her appreciated the control it took for him to rein in his strength for mundane activities, but it was a sight to see him use his body to fight, to protect. She collects herself, feeling something close to guilt at thinking about him this way because she couldn’t._

_She shouldn’t._

_“I know you don’t get sick but you should probably take off those wet clothes,” she reaches for her boots and lifts her eyes to him doing her best to seem flippant and coy. She noticed that flirting with Steve wasn’t as easy as it used to be for her. It was beginning to feel unnatural and forced. She was learning that she was a different person around him, something closer to what she felt was her true self._

_She sees him shake his head a little, a shy smile ghosting his lips as if disbelieving that she would say such a thing at that precise moment. But she couldn’t help but fixate on the beginnings of a blush working its way up his neck to his face._

_“Relax Rogers, it’s not like I haven’t seen anything you have going on under there before.” She teases, and sees his eyebrows raise in mock insult. “You know, what Romanoff-“ he starts, a genuine smile now plastered on his lips as if the tension and anxiety of this ordeal was finally draining from his body._

_She laughs, a fluttery sound she didn’t think she would be able to make as herself, not as the Black Widow, but as Natasha. This was one of the things she enjoyed whenever she interacted with Steve, the banter, the ribbing, and how it came out so freely and naturally. She didn’t second guess herself, she just said what she felt, basked in his lightness, because she trusted him._

_“There are some towels over there inside that closet,” she motions to him, his feet quickly shuffling to retrieve them. She reaches for the hem of her shirt and discards it, feeling the nip of the cool air assault her already clammy skin. Steve averts his eyes slightly as he hands her one of the towels. They’ve been partnered together long enough for them to be in similar situations like this one, when modesty was the last thing they could focus on and she appreciated the fact that Steve always tried to remain respectful of her space, even If sometimes some tiny part of her brain wanted to goad him, just to see the blush creep it’s way to his face. “You can use the shower first, I don’t mind.” She tells him, wrapping the towel over her shoulders like a cocoon. She knows he doesn’t like the cold._

_She sees him stiffen at the sight of the bruise on her side that was beginning to purple and blue, the humor they’d built vanishing from his face replaced by the unfounded remorse he always seems to carry with him like a weight he couldn’t shrug off, a weight he chooses to carry. “We should ice that.” he says, making his way to the fridge that wasn’t even plugged in._

_“Steve, it’s fine,” rolling her eyes at him. “I’ve been in much, much worse conditions. This is nothing. Stop worrying, please.” She asks him, knowing that he’ll listen this time._

_He sits down on the chair beside her. “What if it’s broken?” he asks, taking another look at her side which was now completely concealed by the towel._

_“Trust me,” she grins. “I know when I’ve got a broken rib, I’ve felt it before. Numerous times before.” she smiles at him, trying to get him to let go of his worries._

_He nods his head slightly, as if acquiescing, but she’s realized, in the few years that she’d known him, that he was as stubborn as they came. “I’m sorry Nat, I know, I know, but you shouldn’t have taken that hit for me. I had it covered, it was more important that you got out safely with the data, wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something-“_

_“Christ Steve, talk about the pot calling the kettle black!” she heaves an exasperated sigh. “You were taking on a dozen guys with guns! You were outnumbered and outgunned, I know you’re Captain America and all that but someone could’ve easily fired a gun to your head and it would have been all over.” She feels the shudder making its way to her spine at the thought. Steve didn’t bring his shield, he insisted that he could handle it, that their cover would’ve been blown if he’d carried it around. He said it was for the integrity of the mission. The thought of him being vulnerable like that again disconcerts her.  “You know I couldn’t just watch that. I couldn’t let you-“she stops, realizing how worked up she’s become and closes her eyes._

_She regains her composure and looks him straight in the eye once more. “If it was the other way around, you would’ve done exactly the same,” her voice softening as she took in the defeated look in his eyes. “So stop worrying like an old man and take a shower.”_

_He nods at her, a sigh escaping his lips. “No, you go ahead, I can hold out for a little longer.”_

_Sensing that he needed some time for himself, she gets up and gathers her wet clothing. “Suit yourself, but don’t blame me if there’s no hot water left.” She jokes as she makes her way towards the bathroom. She hears the sound of his laughter, something hearty and genuine along with the scraping of the chair he was sitting on. She glances back in his direction and the last thing she sees before going inside the room is the expanse of the pale skin of his back as he rid himself of his sopping shirt._

_*_

_She’s sitting on the bed, painstakingly going through the information on the USB drive they’ve salvaged from the bar. There wasn’t really anything considerable on it, but it was enough to start investigating any possible leads on what remained of Hydra. It was difficult, combing through heaps and heaps of data. Her eyes were beginning to water from the strain but she persisted, it was important to give him something, anything. He’d been so hopeful. But most of all she needed to distract herself from the ruckus of emotions she’d been trying to tamp down since they’d gotten here (heck, for a longer than that even), emotions she couldn’t name nor understand that were all fixed on the man who she shouldn’t be feeling these things for. Because she didn’t deserve it._

_She didn’t deserve him._

_“Hey,” he says, the steam billowing from behind him as he emerges from the shower. “Thanks for leaving me some hot water.” As he towels off his wet hair. She nodded without taking her eyes off the laptop screen, because she refused to let herself look at him shirtless because she wouldn’t let herself cross that line._

_“Are those for me?” he asks, pointing to the pile of clothes at the end of the bed._

_“Uh huh,” she replies, trying to focus all of her attention at the task at hand. She was so tempted, so damn tempted to look at him like this, take in how beautiful he looked and revel in it. It was hard enough for her to be feeling things for him but if she let herself enjoy it and acknowledge what was brewing inside of her, she wouldn’t know how to live with herself._

_“Thanks,” making his way towards the bed. “I’ve got to say, you’ve thought of everything.” Letting out a chuckle._

_She finally looks at him, he’s got a shirt on, thank god. “When you’ve lived a life like mine it’s hard not to think of every possible scenario. It just makes surviving easier.” She doesn’t mean it to sound so morose but she feels the weight of her words settle between them._

_“What else have you got in this place?” he prods her, trying to shift the conversation to somewhere light. As light as they could, given the circumstances they were in._

_“Well, aside from the basics, there’s some weapons, sat phones, passports and id’s…the usual. Oh, and I think there’s a Scrabble board here somewhere and a deck of cards,” She smirks at him, “You can never tell when you’d need it.”_

_“Right.” Returning her smile. She feels the bed sink as he sits next to her, a few inches separating them. “What have you found out?” his eyes glazing over the stream of code and numbers on the screen._

_“Nothing substantial, but there some things here that are still good. They may be leads.” she supplies, knowing that wasn’t what he wanted to hear._

_She hears him exhale audibly, his shoulders sagging a little from exhaustion and disappointment. He gets up, grabbing one of the pillows. “I guess we should probably rest. I’m gonna sleep on the couch-“_

_“Steve.” She blurts out. His name slipping out of her mouth so suddenly she didn’t have time to take it back. She didn’t know where she was going with this._

_He looks at her questioningly, waiting for her to say something._

_She closes the laptop and sets it on the floor. “Don’t be silly. You wouldn’t be able to fit in that thing.”_

_“It’s alright Nat, I’ve slept in worse-“_

_“You should sleep here.” The words tumbling out of her mouth._

_Shit._

_She could feel her heart quicken, the rush of blood igniting her whole body but she felt the grip of anxiety dig in her core._

_What did I just say? What did I just do?_

_This was the last thing she wanted to happen, the very thing she’d been trying to avoid for so long because she didn’t know how she would act around him beyond the boundaries she has set for them. To be so close like that. It would ruin her, but she couldn’t let him sleep on that small couch. She couldn’t let him be alone with the implications of what they found out looming over them._

_“Nat, you don’t have to, it’s fine. You need the bed, you’re hurt.” He insists._

_She’d gone this far. She had to see this through even though she shouldn’t._

_“You can sleep here with me.”_

_She sees him stiffen at her words and she knows his thoughts are going a mile a minute. Thinking about her comfort, about the appropriateness of it, if it was alright, if he should._

_“Relax Rogers, it’s just a bed. It just so happens we’ll be sleeping on it at the same time,” holding both her hands up in mock surrender. “Plus, you’re a human furnace and I wouldn’t mind mooching off of your body heat. Looks like the storm isn’t letting up anytime soon and it’s pretty chilly.”_

_She mentally berates herself for saying those words. God, what a clusterfuck of a situation._

_His expression relaxes at her words, driven by him being useful to her to some extent. “You sure about this?” he asks, his words coming out softly._

_“Yeah.” She replies, scooting to the left side of the bed to make room for him._

_He settles himself beside her, careful not to let anything touch. She shakes her head at this._

_Always such a gentleman._

_The silence that befalls them was quite comforting which surprises her. She expected it to be awkward and weird and completely disorienting but she’s shocked that it would feel this way. Sleeping next to someone without expecting anything, just drawing the comfort of knowing you’re not alone. She could still feel the steady hammering of her heart, she was a little nervous. She didn’t want to be. His heat was another thing, she could feel her fingers and toes thawing from his heat alone. It all felt so intimate, she was so vulnerable. So out of her league that she found it freeing._

_“You’ll find him.” She finally says, breaking the silence between them._

_The faint light from the streetlights outside outline his face, and he turns his head towards her. He takes a deep breath. “It’s just so hard sometimes. I don’t know where to go, where to start…I thought maybe if I came with you on this mission I could find out something about him too. Where he might go or what… finally get somewhere but all I did was get you hurt.” Closing his eyes as the emotions he’s kept in check for most of the night finally catching up with him._

_She turns her body to face him, not minding the fact that her ribs would probably hate her for it._

_“Wasn’t your fault,” she tells him, fixing her eyes straight onto his despite the darkness. “You had to do what you needed to do.” She contemplates on reaching for him but decides against it. “You just have to take it one day at a time, Steve. I know it. You’ll find him. You will.”_

_She couldn’t believe that those words were coming out of her mouth. Comforting words, words to make someone feel better. If it were anybody else it would’ve unsettled her. She wouldn’t have been capable, but it was Steve. He needed her, and she wanted to make him feel better. She wanted to make him feel good even with just her words, because it was him and it felt like the most natural thing to do._

_He turns his body to her and now they were face to face, only inches setting them apart. “Thanks, Nat. For everything.” he says, and she just nods. She feels like they’ve been staring at each other for hours, not just mere seconds. She feels something shifting between them, all of the thoughts and feelings she’s been harboring for the past few months, suddenly come crashing down, all of it, all of the doubts and wanting. The yearning. It was staring her straight in the face. This was it. Like she was standing at the precipice of something._

_This moment could change everything._

_It would be so easy for her to reach over and kiss him. Press her lips onto his and take what she wanted. To just give herself over to what she was feeling, finally._

_This sudden realization grips her, taking over her body like some drug. Something inescapable and intoxicating._

_But she couldn’t._

_“Good night, Steve.” she manages to say, her words coming out as a whisper._

_She could see the veiled expectation in his face, the anticipation of something more. Something that mirrored her own but it was gone when she blinked. He smiles at her, a sweet smile, but with a slight sadness lining the edges._

_“Goodnight, Nat.” he replies, and he closes his eyes._

_As soon as she slips her eyes shut, she feels his hand find its way to hers, his big warm hand enveloping her smaller one and she lets him. She relaxes to his touch, letting the contact soothe something deep inside her she didn’t know ached._

_Somewhere along the night she wakes up feeling warm. His chest was plastered to her back, legs tangled together, his arm caging her middle like a vice, as if trying to protect her even in his sleep. Her head was nestled in the curve of his neck, her hands clutched to his. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest against her, hear his even breathing. She should’ve been dazed by this unexpected turn but she didn’t. She felt at peace. Like this was right, where she was supposed to be. She closes her eyes once again, letting sleep take hold once more and she snuggles closer to him, as if there was any space left between them. Just tonight, just for this moment, she permits herself the closeness. She lets herself feel his comfort. She acknowledges everything that she has felt up to this point. She gives in to it, just for a little while._

_The next morning she wakes up alone on the bed, the memories from last night coming to her as the fog of sleep dissipated. She hears him shuffling outside the bedroom, probably preparing for their departure._

_She steels herself to face him, not knowing what his reaction would be, how they will come out of this. She should’ve been alarmed, she should’ve felt ashamed but she didn’t. Because what happened last night was beautiful and pure. Something genuine. She regretted nothing. So when she finally saw him that morning, she beamed at him, let the worries of yesterday roll past her shoulders and he returned her smile. He didn’t say anything about it, she didn’t either, but she knew there was something different between them, an unspoken understanding. She could feel the bond between them strengthen and solidify, like molten iron turning into steel._

_They had each other._

_*_

Her thoughts bring her back to the present, to the faint smell of fabric conditioner lingering on the sheets, to the afternoon light casting shadows on the ceiling. It would’ve been so easy to doze off, sleep away the unease and apprehension growing inside her. Let go for just awhile and just _drift_. Forget about everything for just a moment and go back to simpler times. What she wouldn’t give to go back to that stormy night with Steve. To feel that safe and warm all over again. She wonders, for the _millionth_ time if he was okay.

But she forces herself to get up. _There is no time to dwell on the past_. She scans the bedroom, taking note of anything that was amiss and proceeds to gather anything and everything she might need. Some of her guns, the untraceable laptop, cash. She dumps them all inside her duffel. She stops at the armoire she kept clothes in, she wouldn’t take any with her except for one. She opens one of the drawers and sees the shirt she’d lent to Steve that night. The cotton navy blue shirt he insisted he would have cleaned or replaced but she told him it was fine. That he should just leave it there just in case. She never got around to having it cleaned though, for some _inexplicable_ reason it still had traces of his smell. She pulls it out and notices a manila envelope placed underneath it. She takes the package and feels the outline of something hard and square inside. There was nothing written on the outside, and she feels a jolt of hope at the presence of this small package. _This_ was it, it was the thing that had made her want to go back. Her instincts _leading_ her to him. She proceeds to open it up.

She fishes out the object. It was a burner phone.

_A fucking flip phone for chrissakes. Something straight out of 2005._

She shakes her head at this, she smiles what seems like the first real smile she’s had in a while.

She notices a piece of paper lodged inside as well.

**_Call me as soon as you can. Stay safe. S._ **

It read. She heaves a sigh of relief. He was safe, he was alright. Some of the worry she’d been carrying around had somehow lifted from her body.

 _He’s safe, he’s alright_. She repeats to herself as she gathers her things and gets out of the apartment.

*

After a series of connecting flights she’s found herself in a small backpacker’s inn in Kyoto. She knew it would be safer to stick to lesser known parts of the city, blend in like some fumbling tourist. She had to brush up on some of her Japanese too. It had been so long since she’d spoken the language, she could probably use some practice, watch some anime if she had _time_. She’d always wondered what the fuss was about it, Wanda always tried to make her watch but there was always something _more_ pressing to do. Maybe _after_ all of this she can finally take Wanda up on her offer. Despite not having been here in a while she still had connections, her web of contacts still far-reaching and viable. There were a few people who still owed her, it was time to cash in on those favors.

She could plan her next move from here and use those remaining resources, lay out options for herself, maybe for the rest of the team too. Finally formulate something tangible to help them escape, get them all to safety, but first she needed to call him, she needed to know for sure, needed to hear it from him, hear him say that he was away from all of it. She _needed_ to hear his voice.

After making sure she wasn’t being followed, she takes the phone with her to a nearby shrine. The temple was small, _simple_. It didn’t boast of anything outside of its plainness and function. There were hardly any tourists, there were mostly locals milling around who knew the value and importance of something straightforward and without any frills. They knew it was the purpose of the place, what was _inside_ that counted. She clutches the burner phone and powers it up, immediately going through the contacts.

 _Goddamn it Steve, you could’ve gotten a better burner phone,_ she thought.

There was only one number listed on it and she presses the call button. She could feel the mix of fear and anticipation swirling inside her as the ringing went on, she had no idea what to expect, if he would really be at the other end of the line. She had no idea that a simple phone call would bear so much weight in her life. A tether to her sanity, to finding an inkling of peace amidst this chaos that was their lives.

The phone rings a couple more times before someone picks up.

“Hello?” he says, his voice sounding relieved as if some pent up force has finally expulsed itself from his body.

She could feel the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding escape from her lips at the sound of his voice. She thinks about the last time she saw him, spoke to him, how she’d feared it would be the last time she’d ever hear the deep timbre of his voice. Relief washes over her. She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t form the right words to say. All she knew was that he was somewhere out there, _safe_.

 _He was safe_.

“Hello,” he says again. “Nat, are you there? Are you okay?” his voice becoming worried over the tinny quality of the connection.

She was still stuck somewhere between disbelief and elation. _He was alright_. She slowly lets go of her worries, loosening the permanent knot in her stomach that’s accompanied her since the start of this ordeal. She takes a cleansing breath and tries to center her thoughts. This was real, and she was talking to Steve.

“Nat, are you safe?” he repeats himself, fear lacing his words at the lack of her own.

She finally finds the strength to answer. “I-I’m okay. I’m okay, I’m safe.” She manages to say with a shaky breath, so many words were forming in her head now, but her mouth couldn’t process them quickly enough. She was overwhelmed, but relieved, so damn _relieved_.

She hears him sigh audibly over the line. “Thank God. I didn’t know if-“

“Are you?-” she interrupts him. Her thoughts immediately going back to her friends, her mind finally accepting the fact that Steve was alright. “Are _they_ okay? Steve we need to-“panic racking up her body at the thought of their friends struggling, _suffering_ , somewhere. In a place they might not be able to get to. Fearing for what’s to come. They _needed_ to help them…

“It’s okay Nat. I’m fine. We’re all okay, where are you?-“

She stops him again, all the thoughts and fears gnawing at her surging through. “Laura and the kids, I wasn’t able to, I don’t know if-“the distress that she’d been trying to suppress for so long finally bubbling out of her. She couldn’t keep herself calm and composed like she normally would, it was as if her body was finally letting itself purge all of the terror she was trying to control.

“They’re okay. They’re safe too. Don’t worry Nat. Everything’s fine,” he assures her, letting his words comfort her ragged nerves. She lets it, lets his words comfort her because she needed it so much. She was desperate for it.

“And Barnes? Is he?...“she asks him finally.

“He’s okay.” he says, with a heaviness in his tone.

She closes her eyes at hearing those words. Somehow, they had all come out alive from this nightmare. “Oh God, what a mess. I should’ve stopped it sooner, I should’ve-” she lets the regret and shame tumble out of her mouth. She lets the emotions of the last week past her defenses. It all felt _too much_. It was one thing to feel relief over their physical safety, but she couldn’t shake off the fact that everything has changed now and she feels the sadness of everything they had lost and everything that was broken finally take over.

“What’s done is done, we can’t change what happened. We just have to keep going forward, Nat.” She lets his words sink in, trying to find comfort in them. Clutching at his perseverance, clutching at his hope.

“Where are you?” he asks, rushing over his words.

“I’m in Japan,” she answers. “I still know some people here. They might be able to help us, we need to get as much help as we can.” She assures him, trying to steel herself again, focusing on the present.

“I’ve never been there before,” he comments, as if voicing out his thoughts unconsciously. She hears a lightness in his voice she hasn’t heard in a while, not since Lagos. “Might be nice to see some other parts of the world since I’ve already started.” He chuckles.

She couldn’t believe what he was saying, that he was the one making light of the situation. “What are you saying Steve?” she questions him, incredulity taking over.

“I’m coming to get you.” he says, with a finality, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

At first she feels confused, she feels appalled at the thought that he would think of her incapable of not fending for herself or not being the one to go to them. She was better qualified than him to dodge criminal prosecution. She was Black Widow. He wouldn’t last long going underground, but he’s managed hasn’t he? He’s done the best he can. She feels something bloom inside her at the thought. No, he would never think that she was some helpless damsel that needed to be saving, he respected her too much to not think that she was more than capable of surviving on her own. She considers what he truly meant and she lets the yearning break free, accepting that maybe he was doing it for another reason entirely

But it wasn’t right, _was it_? She couldn’t let herself _hope_.

“What? Why?” confusion filling her voice. “It wouldn’t be safe Steve, the whole world is out to get us, to get _you_. Besides, you don’t need to protect me, I can do that on my own. You need to think of yourself, you need to think for once-“

“Natasha, I can’t let you go off on your own.” he exclaims, immediately putting a stop to her disagreements. “I can’t-“he pauses, as if trying to think of what to say next. “I know you can take care of yourself, you’re the most capable person I know. Y-You’re the best person I know.” he breathes out, hearing his last statement with something that felt like longing. She feels the exasperation seeping from him.

She lets his words sink in, letting them flow through her veins, savoring what those words truly meant.

“It wouldn’t be right for you to be away like that, but if that’s what you want-“ he stops, unable to finish his thoughts. “But always remember that you belong here with us. With me.” He finally says, his voice straining at what he had revealed.

“I need you, Nat. I wouldn’t be able to do this without you.”

It was as if his words had beckoned time to stop, she feels the thrumming of her heart beat against her sternum. His admission, his _honesty_. The words subdue her because it reflected so much of her own sentiments. 

_He felt the same way._

“Anything that’ll happen from here on out, we’ll face them _together_.” he says, she could detect the softness in his voice, the affection he wasn’t trying mask, letting her know of what he felt, what he wanted. What he was finally taking for himself.

_Together._

She lets the word echo inside her head, accepting that she too was willing to take what she wanted at last. That this, whatever _this_ was, whatever _they_ were, it was as inevitable as rain, as inevitable as a storm coming and passing. She couldn’t escape it anymore, it all had led to this and she wasn’t backing away this time. She was going to hold on to it and never let it go.

_She wasn’t going to let him go again._

“Nat, you still there?” he asks her.

“Yeah I’m still here,” she replies finally, “Okay, Steve.” she breathes.

“Okay.” 

*

A couple of days later she finds herself in the small shrine once more, sitting at the same bench that had literally supported her through one of the most significant events that has happened in her life. She breathes in the fragrant air, the smell of trees and the imminence of rain filling her nose. She smiles at herself and thinks that that particular scent would be what calmness would smell like.

_If she could just bottle it up…_

She scans the crowd, again taking note of the lack of tourists except for one. She sees his silhouette first, entering from the temple gate that has stood there for hundreds of years. He towered over the rest of the people, it was ridiculous to see, he looked like a giant. As he finally nears her, she takes in his features once more, how familiar it was, but now with a certain newness as well.

He smiles at her, a big toothy grin full of relief and joy. Maybe even something _more_ , something she was just beginning to get to know _too_ , something blossoming and thriving within herself.

She lets him take her hand.

_They had each other._

 


End file.
